In the silent passage, toward the night, where stars descend
In the silent passage, toward the night, where stars descend,
Time slips through fingers, like a thread of sand, gliding, blending,
I've sought your gaze in the Big Dipper, during my tactical wanders,
You are the light born from the purest thought, queen amongst the wonders.
I wanted to harvest for you, the cold astral from deep blue sky,
But the Polaris is too high, erasing any hope that might fly.
Hidden in dreams, I wait for the night to bring you into my pale scope,
To be your knight, in this shadow play, and you, the eternal sound of hope.
I have nothing but words to offer, my modest offering,
But they are filled with a yearning, a yearning that can't stop longing,
You feel me, I feel you, through valleys and over hills of oblivion,
My sublime outcry, after your cold image, is lost in the ocean.
My ceiling, painted with stars and whispering comets,
Seems to weep, wanting to reveal that my pain is but opinion,
And that in the end, you were sent to me, through the realm of fear,
A saintly face, my light from the dark, a terrestrial luck so dear.
I gather fragments of heart and lay them down in magical verse,
As you rise regal in the night, a whole world in the universe,
Or when your eyes conceal secrets in a thin veil of mist,
And just your presence, my love, in this way, makes me culpable, kissed.
Under your gaze, my poetry quivers and, timid, it bows,
No longer wanting to be just words, just a peaceful envoy,
And it whispers on a trembling note that gently unwinds,
That I love you, the queen of my pallid dream, by your side as your knight.
I am the warrior of the night, lost among echoes and seasons,
Humming a dark melody that hides in chasms for reasons.
But even when you reject my word and tender verse,
You are my fate, and in poems or in reality, you are my universe.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
|